


Conduct Unbecoming of a Professional

by TwoCatsTailoring



Category: Pokemon GO
Genre: Complicated Relationships, F/F, F/M, Implied Relationships, Slow Burn, past relationship, world building
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-10
Updated: 2016-10-04
Packaged: 2018-08-14 03:59:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 11,867
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7997779
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TwoCatsTailoring/pseuds/TwoCatsTailoring
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You can learn a lot about people when you live with them and work with them. Some things are harmless. Some things are annoying. </p><p>And some things nobody has any business knowing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Problem

“This has become a problem.” Blanche closed the folder she’s been looking over and turned her chair around, face set in stiff lines. Legs crossed, she fought the urge to cross her arms as well, this was not supposed to be an interrogation. Just because she was not comfortable with it….

Professor Willow sighed, his chin dropping slightly to his chest as he turned around to face her. “Who told you?”

The thing was that there was an awful lot that you could find out about someone when you worked and lived under each other’s feet all the time. For example, it had not taken long for Willow to realize that Spark, his older sister’s youngest son and a chronic thorn in her side for his lack of seriousness and application of what she felt were his best talents, was a genius at managing people. He combined just the right amounts of humor and caring and motivation to keep the people around him inspired.

It took even less time to realize that while Candela and Blanche could and would work together beautifully, they had no business sharing living space. Blanche was orderly and Candela’s version of organization was something more in line with ‘controlled chaos’ or ‘the pile.’ Living arrangements got sorted out and once the GO program was up and running, everyone had a lot more to think about than who left the soap to turn in to a mushy mess.

But those first few weeks had been a real proving ground and the Professor was both pleased and relieved in his triumph. It was a success, overall. They had to bring on undergrads and interns in droves, losing them almost as fast as they were able to hire in new ones, the Drowzee Fiasco causing more than one person to actually run screaming from GO headquarters. They had all snapped at different points and in different ways but they all learned from it.

Candela wept in frustration.

Spark actually did have a temper.

Willow broke things in dejected sorrow.

Blanche laughed for hours when she was completely overwhelmed.

He supposed that was what had done it, really. She’d been the last one of them to crack from the strain, then had apologized to them all for it. She had laughed until she was clutching her sides and stuffing a fist in her mouth, hair and eyes wild but completely unable to stop until it had run it’s course and she’s subsided into the occasional giggle and hiccup. A display of humanity that Willow found both relieving and scary at the same time. But incredibly welcome.

He’d written it off, given himself a few very stern words about being 46 years old, long divorced, committed to bachelorhood, and well past the stage in his life when it was feasible to have this happen again. It made no sense, was as wrong as it had ever been, she was his assistant, it was stupid to even consider that after this much time…. Clearly it was just a reaction to seeing that side of her again. That was all.

And it had worked too. Until Spark, in his usual way, dropped the grenade in the middle of breakfast one morning. Thankfully, Blanche was already gone, out on her rounds of the pools and gardens but he was sure that Candela was going to choke on her muffin.

“You gonna do anything about this thing you got for Blanche, Rick?”

Terminally casual, and he’d tried to laugh it off but it didn’t work because one thing he knew about Spark was that he would not have said that if he was not completely sure. Certainly not in front of Candela. And living and working so close together, he knew that Candela knew it too.

And once recovered she’d made it very clear that she was not blind or deaf either. So what had started as a peaceful breakfast had ended as some sort of gentle intervention, with the two of them pointing out that it was really unwise of him to have been so obvious about it, but that they were pretty sure she had no idea. Couching their words carefully to not be judging him the idiot he was sure they thought he was.

And he was careful not to agree with that unspoken assessment.

He’d hoped to let it go at that. He’d watched everything he said, everything he did with her from that point on. Measured and careful in every word, gesture, and request. But it would seem that it had not worked any better than it had before.

He did not even bother trying to bluff out of it now, just accepted her statement and asked who to decide who to fire first. Not that he actually would, but it was a comforting thought to have.

“Nobody had to tell me,” Blanche answered curtly, sarcastically. “Contrary to popular belief I am not a complete robot.” A practical one out of necessity, perhaps but it was hard to miss the sudden shift from willing to be friendly and helpful and kind in to hyper-professionalism. And it did not take her much thought at all to remember the last time he’d done that. And why. “And I know you too well Richard.”

And with that, his bubble burst. So much for comforting thoughts.

She waited several seconds, hoping that he would fill in the gap with something. Anything. An explanation? An apology? Both? When nothing seemed forthcoming, her discomfort rose, twisting in her chest and she gave in, crossing her arms and focusing on a spot somewhere just above and to the right of his head on the wall because she would not look him in the eye, not right now.

“I don’t suppose that I need to explain to you how unprofessional it is? Or how awkward it makes it for me to do my job? Or how completely foolish it is of you to develop,” she gave a slight wave of one hand and gave a sarcastic emphasis to her next words, “feelings for one of your underlings?”

This was completely ridiculous. Her stomach flipped when he sighed and leaned forward to rest an elbow on his thigh and drag his hand down his face. “We ruined your marriage and nearly ended both of our careers, mine before it even began,” she hissed as if there was anyone in the empty lab to hear her. “I’m not going to let you do it again.”

You could learn a lot about people by living and working with them on a very big project. But it seemed that even things he thought he knew about her were going to have to be relearned.


	2. Workplace Hazards

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's a mistake with candy, a road trip, and SOMEONE forgot their manners.

“Candela, we are going to be late.” Blanche has been leaning against the wall for every bit of seven minutes, alternately checking the time and fielding the occasional appraisal request. “Burgh said it was important.”

“You know,” Candela’s head popped out from around her open and overflowing closet door, “If you drove like a normal person….”

Not even looking up, Blanche cut her off, “I haven’t done it in years because there was no need. And a few hours is insufficient to get my credentials up to par. I can ask Spark to take me.”

She turned to go do that very thing and Candela made a grab for her, missed by a mile and fell on the floor. “No, I said I’d do it and I will! Just give me five minutes.”

“You had five minutes a half hour ago. Get your shoes sorted out and let’s go. Oh,” Blanche added as she looked Candela over from head to toe as she struggled out of her pile, “Pants might be a good idea, too.”

__

Castelia City was as tidy and pretty as Blanche remembered it and she couldn’t help but look around in contentment as Candela fussed her way through traffic to the Castelia Gym while Ondine and Lucy slept, paws in the air, in the back seat. Once there, the Team Leaders along with their Vaporeon and Flareon entered the Gym and were showing to Burgh’s study.

“So glad to meet you at last,” he greeted warmly, extending a hand first to Blanche then to Candela. “I’ve got a, well,” he chuckled to himself, “large evolutionary situation and was told you were the person to call.”

And did he ever have a large issue. After a short walk down a back hallway and through a locked door, the issue, all nine feet of it, was clicking happily in a seldom used battle arena. Blanche just blinked while Ondine yelped and hide behind her legs. Candela and Lucy both had their mouths hanging open in slack-jawed wonder.

“What happened?” Blanche asked, attempting to advance into the room but being hindered by Ondine’s clinging.

Burgh looked guilty and scratched the back of his neck. “Dwebble was hungrier than I anticipated after a gym battle. I left to get more food for it, only to find it neck deep in Candy when I returned.”

Blanche leveled a frowning look at him for a second and he shrugged slightly. “I didn’t know the little guy could figure out how to open the drawer.”

__

It took the only Master Ball that Burgh had on hand to contain the massive Crustle because it seemed that with great size came great strength. Fortunately, Candela had the idea to feed it a lot of berries prior to the attempt and the Pokémon came along quietly enough and once back in the car, Blanche and Candela could only stare at each other in silence for a few minutes before they both diffused into laughter.

“What do we do with it now?” Candela asked as her hearty laughter turned to giggles. “Where do we even take it? Back with us?”

“Articuno, no. Spark would have it as a pet.” Blanche sniggered into her hand at the idea and laid her head back on the seat. “It’d want to sleep in his bed and it can’t even fit through the door!”

What had possessed Burgh to even keep the thing in the first place? Blanche knew that he was a pacifist, but a nine-foot tall Crustle really had no business being inside. But as he did belong to the Gym Leader, there was no letting it go now.

“Professor Juniper?” Candela ventured, with a wide-eyed shrug, not sure that it was an idea that Blanche would go for.

Blanche sat up, narrowed her eyes, and thought for a moment. “You know,” she said with conviction, “that is an excellent idea.”

Candela gave a pleased cheer and started the car , heading east out of the city. “At least that way…”

“… It’s not our problem,” Blanche finished as if it was the most logical thing in the world. Candela hooted with laughter again and Blanche pressed her lips together, holding back a smile. It wasn’t exactly the most ethical thing in the world, passing off a problem-crab to the unsuspecting Professor, but what else could they do?

__

“So you see,” Blanche was explaining sensibly, with forgiveness in her voice, “We just were not sure that taking Crustle back with us was the right thing to do. It’s evolution, after all, is so unexpected and we are not equipped to handle it right now.”

That was a nice touch, that not now. Left it open. As if they’d come back for the beast of a rock-type that had, upon being released from the ball, promptly landed and send a network of cracks in every direction across the cobblestone walkway.

Professor Juniper stared in wonder and wordlessly raised her phone to take a picture of Crustle who was nibbling at a tree limb. “Of course,” she said mechanically before shaking herself free of her amazement. “You said it was Burgh who was responsible for this? Well then, I’ll see to it that Crustle is well looked after.”

She turned, unwilling to really take in or cope with this situation at present, and smiled to both women. “You have had one hell of a day. Come in and get something to eat. I would love to hear more about the GO project. Willow has been so busy he’s not had time to talk much.”

Juniper led the way indoors with an easy manner that Candela took to immediately, the two chatting with animation and pleasure and drawing the more reserved Blanche into the conversation throughout the meal and coffee that followed. Every now and then, Crustle could be seen from a window and it never failed to make all three women pause and exchange looks of amazement and amusement.

It was simply ridiculous.

As they were leaving, Professor Juniper shook hands all around and wished them a safe trip. “Let Professor Willow know that I’ll be coming by to check things out eventually. You both have stirred my curiosity more than I thought possible.”

__

Candela is really good at being really annoying when she is bored and this drive? With this hold up at the interchange of 4 and 13? Yeah, she’s on overdrive for aggravating.

“You can’t just say you aren’t interested!” If she is a bit accusatory, she’ll blame it on impatience.

“But I’m not. I have a job to do and ‘going on a booty hunt,’ as you so elegantly put it, is not a priority.” Blanche sighs, long-suffering and patience wearing a little at the edges. Really, a trapped Candela was not worth losing her cool over. At least that’s what she told herself on repeat.

“Tch!” Candela did subside for a few minutes before something downright wicked took holds of her and without so much as a nod in the general direction of forethought, she leaned over into Blanche’s personal space, grinned widely, and asked, “You mean to tell me that the promise of steamy makeouts with a hot babe like me aren’t tempting?”

Blanche had backed up as far as she could as Candela closed in but that wasn’t that far. Blanche frowned and rolled her eyes and counted backwards from five before she answered sarcastically, “Maybe on my next day off.”

Candela groaned dramatically as she slumped back into the driver’s seat. “Heart of stone! I am crushed! You know we don’t have days off!”

Blanche snorted, then clapped a hand over her mouth as if to muffle the sound that had already escaped. Candela did have an uncanny talent with overdramatic pining.

Candela continued, pleased with the shift from sarcasm to mirth, “I shall never recover! My poor broken heart!” She tried not to think about the fact that the sarcasm was just a tiny bit hard to hear. It was only just a little anyway, no big deal.

Blanche managed to get it together enough to return a mostly-controlled, “No worries. There’s always Spark.”

Candela dropped the act and screwed up her face in disgust, “Girl, no. You know I don’t do dick.”

__

“What do you mean you left it there! That’s awful! The poor thing! He’s eating a tree!” Spark gestured to the phone in his hand and the picture it held. “That might be poisonous!”

Spark was inconsolable, Candela had suddenly needed to get in her daily run, and Blanche had a pounding headache that could not take being left alone with Spark at this decibel level. “Spark, I’ve already told you, we don’t have…..”

“Blanche is right, Spark. We do not have the room for a giant Crustle here.” Professor Willow interrupted as he settled himself into a chair and propped his feet on the coffee table.  “Maybe once things get a little better sorted out here, we can find space for it. But right now, there’s just no way.”

“Thank you,” Blanche said to the Professor, stiff-jawed with aggravation at the interruption and generally with his existence. “Excuse me.”

The reason for the impossible traffic had been an accident involving a Snorlax and a vegetable truck that took hours to clear so she and Candela had not gotten back to GO headquarters until almost sunset. Candela disappeared as soon as Spark began to protest the fate of Crustle and Blanche swore that the next time she saw her, she would kick Candela in the shins.

So now, after a half hour of complaints and three seconds of being interrupted and talked over by someone who had just repeated the same things she’d said four times already, Blanche was _done_. Only, she realized as she put the finishing touches on the protein shake she was going to call dinner, she wasn’t. Because she still needed to catch up on appraisals, catalog all the transfers for the past four hours, and type up her report about that damned Crustle.

She added a double shot of vodka to her shake. That might help.


	3. Lost and Found

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Now where is that woman?

“Spark, have you seen Blanche?” Candela rounded the corner and nearly collided with a towering stack of incubators that looked very convincingly like an Electabuzz.

“Nope,” came the muffled answer from somewhere deep in the room. Maybe in that back corner, underneath that pile of incubator boxes. “Try the pool. She said something about needing to check the temper – AAAAA!”

“Spark!” Errand momentarily forgotten, she made a dive for the sound of his voice. A brief struggle ensued, glass broke, and a stream of profanity not yet heard in GO headquarters was drowned out by the unhappy bellows of a very unhappy Tauros.

__

“That is no Pidgey candy.”

Professor Willow frowned and slid his glasses down onto his face leaning over to get a closer look. “No, it isn’t. Were there any more of them?”

Spark looked a bit shifty, like he had as a child when he’d kept a Weedle, then a Kakuna hidden in his bedroom for a month before being found out when his mother went in to gather his laundry and found a Beedrill.

“Spark.” Was that the right tone? Uncle-boss? Damn, this was a mess. Just a little bit of fact-checking on the part of the hiring team….

Spark emptied the pockets of his jacket onto the table. At least 100 of the counterfeit candies rolled around amid pocket lint, bits of string, and half a sandwich. “that’s all of them, I swear.”

Well if that wasn’t a red flag, Willow didn’t know what was. “You ate them, didn’t you?” The Professor rolled his eyes and gave Spark a shove towards the door. “Go to medical. No telling what you just ate.”

“Aww, that’s the second time today!”

“And send Blanche to see about this candy thing. I’ve got to get on a conference call with the Board in ten minutes.”

“Fine, I’ll do that after medical.” Spark burped and made a face, “They were better the first time around.”

__

“Candela! Stop kicking the transporter!” Was he working with a bunch of animals?

“I have to kick it Professor,” Candela explained calmly between blows. “This is the one that gets stuck. Blanche called the mechanics and they said they would come, but I don’t remember when.”

“How does kicking it help?” Just then the weird noise that the machine was making stopped and was replaced by the usual soothing whir as it started to function properly. Willow shook his head and turned to leave, muttering to himself, “This can’t go on.”

__

“She’s not answering.”

“Well, what do we do now? That was everything on the list.”

“I dunno. Do we call Candela? Spark?”

“If I had to pick, I’d pick Spark. At least we’d have fun.”

“Good point.” A pause, the beeping of a number being dialed. “Hey Spark! Yeah, we got done and can’t find get Blanche. Got anything needs doing?”

Another pause.

“Aww, yeah!” The undergrad ended the call and looked at the other. “Another Jigglypuff Armegeddon!”

The squealing echoed down the hall and Candela decided she did not want to know.

__

Professor Willow sprinted around the corner into the labs, flying past workstations to his office, grabbing his backpack and PokeDex and hurling himself back through the room. Only to pull up short to survey the little pile of Not-Pidgey Candy that was still on the table from that morning.

This. Wasn’t right.

__

“…and you’ve not seen her all day? Really?” Candela looked concerned as she chewed on a bite of her dinner.

“Well, have you? Didn’t she have appointments today? Where’s her TA?” Spark was staring at the empty place at the table, laid for dinner but the chair empty.

“I had Will on the phone earlier. Blanche sent him to Sinnoh today pick up a Turtwig. He’s on his way back.” Professor Willow wasn’t eating so much as he was shoving peas around on his plate and trying very hard to look anywhere but at Blanche’s seat. “She did not tell him her plans for the day.”

They all sat in silence. Fourteen hours had passed since anyone had seen or heard from Blanche and none of them could think of where she could be. They all ate or didn’t in silence for another minute until Candela spoke up.

“This is stupid. Sitting here isn’t going to find her. Let’s get everybody who’s still here to drop what they are doing and help look for her.” Candela held up a hand when the Professor started to protest. “Look, she’s either here or not and this place is too big for us to search alone. And if she’s not here, the sooner we know the sooner we can call in Officer Jenny.”

Reluctantly Willow agreed and within fifteen minutes, Candela had everyone organized into teams and scattering to assigned party of the whole GO complex to look. Labs, battle arenas, simulation rooms, pools, storage closets, and parked cars were gone over with no sign of Blanche anywhere.

Spark, Candela, and Professor Willow met back up in the hallway of the dorms where a search team had demurred on checking Blanche’s room, citing that they had no desire to tempt fate if they should disturb something.

Candela had no such qualms and picked the lock with a skill that made Spark wonder just where she learned that. Once inside, there were at least signs of recent habitation – her backpack was on the bed open and her sunglasses and a few Pokeballs were lying nearby.

Spark and Professor Willow moved into the room as if it were some sort of sacred shrine, Spark looking a little frightened that it might be booby-trapped but again, Candela was fearless. It really was one of her better traits. She opened the closet and looked behind the sofa before she thought she heard something in the bathroom.

Genuinely concerned that the small scratching noise she’d heard was Ondine trapped accidentally, Candela moved forward and threw open the bathroom door.

__

“See,” Blanche said, still-wet hair making a trail down the back of her shirt, “It’s right there. On the whiteboard. In the kitchen.” She was fuming still at the sudden invasion of her shower.

She had screamed, Candela had yelped, and Spark had clapped a hand over Willow’s eyes hard enough to black one of them. It had not been pretty.  And Blanche was still red from the whole thing though now it was not from residual embarrassment but anger.

At least, that is what she barked at Candela when the latter had pointed it out.

“A note. Gone to see about that Pokestop that only gave eggs. Not sure how long it will take. –Blanche.” She gave them all a wide-eyed look complete with a mocking grin. “Or are all of you highly educated people completely illiterate?”

Professor Willow opened his mouth and got the first syllable out in that patronizing tone that she’d had just about enough of and Blanche braced herself for some sort of ‘be fair’ lecture when it was Spark who came to her rescue.

“Okay,” he said, clearly contrite, “It was really wrong of us to barge in, but we were really worried about you. You didn’t answer your phone, didn’t check in with anybody. And we needed you today.” Spark frowned and looked at the ground. “I’m sorry. I’ll check for a note next time.”

Blanche found it next to impossible to stay mad at Spark for more than just a few minutes and she knew that he was right. “I’ll try to leave more than one if I have to be gone for a long time,” she offered up as a means of meeting halfway. “But Abra’s ass! Knock!”

Candela immediately went on the offensive, “I thought it was Ondine getting herself stuck in small spaces again! All I was wanting was to let her out!” Candela shrugged. “Not that you don’t have a spectacular…,”she finished with a hand gesture that indicated Blanche’s person from head to foot. “But catching a peek was not my first priority.”

Catching a second look was now, but even Candela could have some tact. Sometimes.

Professor Willow closed his not-swollen eye and tried very hard to wish himself far away from that kitchen or for time to rewind so that he had been the first one to the bathroom door. Anything, really, that was not him sitting here hiding his own flushed embarrassment in an ice-bag.

“Oh good grief.” Blanche turned around, going pink to her hairline again due to the nature of the conversation and the company it was taking place in, and exited the room. Spark was laughing and Candela called after her before following, jogging a bit to catch up with her.

“Ok, ok! I’m sorry,” Candela said, not at all sorry but wanting to make a good show just the same.

Blanche just pursed her lips and huffed, shaking her head. “You are the worst.”

“Yes, yes I am. But at least I admit it. Now,” Candela put on her serious voice, dropping all pretense of jocular teasing as they rounded the corner back in the direction of their rooms. “Will you explain those scars?”


	4. The Truth Will Set You Free

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which we flail around and meet some old friends.

“You do not owe me any more explanations than I owe you,” Blanche said evenly as she held up her free hand to Candela and shook her head.

“This isn’t…,” Candela’s words, rushed and slightly breathless were cut off by another firm shake of Blanche’s head.

“If you want to spend your time in the ceiling tiles instead of filing your paperwork, what you do up there is your own business. Blanche looked up, neck craning to get a decent view of Candela’s dirty face.

An echoing shriek came from somewhere behind her and overhead, then Spark’s voice filtered through as well, “I found it! I found it Candela! Help me grab it! Oh no!”

Blanche blinked and Candela tensed before swinging back into the hole and clamoring along above. “Spark, stop yelling! You’ll scare it. OH SHIT IT’S ON ME!”

Blanche did not even have to wait a beat after Candela disappeared before she was snickering and had to clap her hand over her mouth to block explosive laughter at the idea of Candela with a frightened Trubbish attached to her person.

__

Professor Willow leaned over his laptop, unhappy and squinting at the text he could barely see without his glasses. They still hurt enough from the black eye Spark had given him a few days before ‘protecting the mystery of womanhood from his impure gaze’ that they stayed on his head most of the time.

A tap at his office door was exactly the distraction he was hoping for to distract him from the headache that was starting to scratch at the inside of his skull. “Come in,” he called, happiness evident in his voice.

Blanche rounded the doorframe with a set mouth and a carefully neutral expression. “Here are the reports about the incidence of children and Sylveon evolution. And I brought Candela’s on the unusual reaction that some fairy types have to stardust.” She laid the two folders on his cluttered desk and turned to go.

“Blanche,” he called after her, face now anything but smiling. She turned, her expression never changing, save for just the polite amount of curiosity and he sighed. “Can we not talk about this?” He realized that he sounded like he was begging but could not find it in him to care. It had been months and she never changed at all towards him. Always formal, always cold. It was starting to sting because she had gotten so comfortable with everyone else.

“You haven’t even read the reports yet. Are you concerned that we might have misunderstood the point?”

He just stared, head starting to throb just above his right ear. Was she serious? Or being stubborn. “Blanche, please.”

“No, Professor. We can’t talk about this,” she dropped the act and gave him a look that he could swear was intended to do actual, physical harm. “What’s done is done. You need to accept that.” And she turned on her heel and left, clicking his office door shut softly behind her.

__

Spark hummed to himself as he headed down the path to town, a bag full of Pokeballs over one shoulder and an egg in an incubator under one arm. He strolled through the trees and bushes, relaxed and happy and with very little in his head outside of wondering if this trip would do it for this 10km egg. He hoped so, they’d been through a lot together.

He paused at the dross-street and check for traffic, waving to one of the folks he knew who passed by on a bike. His pace slowed even more as he headed for the Pokémon Center, talking to nearly everyone he met and stopping to make friends with the people and Pokémon he didn’t. He paused for pictures with a class of school-kids and their class Pokémon Merrill, talk to a Performer and her Braixen, and give directions to an older couple trying to find a certain restaurant.

Once he finally got to the Pokemon Center, half an hour later than he’d told Joy he would be there, she just sighed and shook her head at him. “Caught by your fans again?”

“Nah, just got distracted,” he said, handing over the bag and helping her count out sets of six to send for healing.

“I don’t understand why you get them transferred hurt?” She asked, sorting out another set of six.

“Sometimes the Stops don’t cough up Revives the way they should. They get stuck, right? All pointy. So other stuff falls out first. We’re working on it,” he assured her.

“Maybe if you made the storage for them round instead of square it would work better,” Joy suggested, stacking the trays and handing them off to Audino.

Spark seemed to consider this for a second than nodded, “That’s a really good idea! I’ll suggest it to Rick.” Spark turned to go but paused when he noticed a face that felt like it should be familiar. “Who’s that?”

Joy turned back from where she’d looked down at some forms, “Oh, he just arrived. His name is Ash and he said he’s meeting some friends here later.”

Spark scratched his head then a lightbulb went off. He started to cross the room, incubator back under his arm when the egg began to crack. “Oh!” Spark went wide-eyed and pulled the egg out, excited for this hatching.

“Hey, what’s going on?” the boy in the hat looked up from his Pokedex as the egg broke open and a Lapras crashed to the floor and gave a surprised roar.

__

“So that’s how Spark met Ash Ketchum and everything got rearranged for the next few days. He’s only in town for a little while and Professor Willow wanted us all to get to talk to him.” Candela was hurrying along with Blanche, both heading out on errands of different sorts and neither with a lot of time to talk.

“That sounds strange and very Spark-like. But will we have enough time?”

“We’ll have to make enough time.” Candela paused at the junction of two halls and held Blanche’s arm. “But hey, consider it, okay? I’m worried cause the less you talk to more you tense up.”

Blanche sighed and gave Candela a look meant to placate. “It’s not a big deal.”

“Then just tell me. Later. Please?”

“Fine! Just stop asking.” Blanche waited for a confirming nod then headed off the opposite direction.

“Not difficult.” Candela checked her watch and started to run off before skidding to a halt. “Wait!” Candela patted her pockets and asked, “Do you have a mini-screwdriver? I’m going to need one.”

__

“See, I told you. No big deal.” Blanche crammed another of the candy-apple chocolates into her mouth and shrugged. Honestly, some people.

“I don’t know. That sounds pretty serious. And it was just there, getting bigger and bigger the whole time?” Candela was amazed at both the story she’d just heard and how casually Blanche had spilled it.

“Well, sort of. I was never really athletic but if I had been, maybe I would have noticed them pressing on my lungs.” Blanche shrugged again. “I’m a lot happier with these results than with what I had before.”

Candela sat in silence for several minutes and Blanche took the chance to steal her bag of chips and eat a few of them. She didn’t understand the surprise but there was a lot about Candela that Blanche did not understand.

“And so,” Candela attempted, “You went from a C-cup to an A almost overnight cause they found a cyst in your tit that had just been growing since you were like, 12?”

“Yes.”

“That’s nuts, you know?”

“Yes.”

“Really, do you?”

“No, but it seems to be what you want to hear?”

“You are an ass.”

“You still smell like a trash bag.”

“What?”

“Oh, I thought we moved on to saying obvious things.”

Candela groaned and hit Blanche with a pillow, spilling chocolates and cheesy chips all over the bed.

“Guess I’m sleeping in your room.”

“Candela, no.”


	5. The Truth is Overrated

Blanche pulled her shoulders back, stretching and letting out a short groan as her spine cracked. She’d been sitting hunched over this computer for a long time, looking through all the data that Ash Ketchum’s Pokedex had provided.

He’d been an odd one to her, so enthusiastic, so willing to answer any questions they had then requesting battles with all three team leaders and Professor Willow. She’d volunteered to go first because he had also been kind enough to hand over all of the Pokedex he had with him, sending a request to his mother and Professor Oak to send others as well so that they could download and look at all the Pokemon he had seen and caught over the years. Blanche wanted to get a look at it all first.

Blanche had not been prepared for what she found. The volume of information was staggering. She looked at the clock as stiff muscles protested her finally moving. Well after two in the morning and she toyed with the idea of leaving the last couple of Pokedex to download without her and getting some sleep.

She thought. And thought. And thought some more before she shook herself and realized that she’d been staring at the clock for five minutes without moving. It was beyond time for her to rest, so she plugged in the last two devices, gathered up and shut down the rest before leaving the lab and locking the door behind her.

A yawn made her jaws pop unhappily and Blanche made her way down the hall and up the stairs to the dorms, only weaving a little as she crept past everyone else’s doors and into her room. She didn’t even bother with doing anything more than stripping to her underwear and falling into bed.

And morning came far too early, with Spark bursting into her room to announce, “Pigs in a blanket for breakfast! Aww, cute poliwags,” before leaving again as quickly as he’d come. It took her at least 30 seconds to realize he was talking about her underpants and not an actual Poliwag infestation.

A shower helped, coffee helped more, and before an hour was gone she’d made her usual rounds of the pools, ponds, and streams getting a headcount of Pokemon and giving the undergrads and interns their assignments for the day. Back inside and properly fed, she slipped away to go over more of the data Ash had provided.

The lab door was open and Spark had clearly been pecking away at his workstation as there was a fresh bag of sour fruit rings open and hanging out of his desk drawer. He could put away the whole bag in ten minutes, so he must not have been there long. Blanche shook her head and shut the drawer. The last thing they needed was another Scatterbug invasion.

She rounded the corner and immediately noticed that Ash’s Pokedex were gone. None of them, even the two left plugged in were there. Feeling the first pricks of panic in her belly, she assessed the situation. It wasn’t likely they’d be stolen as they could only be reset by the issuing Professor. The cords she’d used to plug them in were left neatly on her desk, and there was no sign of anyone trying to mess with the lock.

Just to be sure, Blanche checked her desk drawers, the tops of Candela and Spark’s desks, and down behind the filing cabinet where everything that was ever lost was found. But the stack of devices wasn’t in the room. So she headed off down the hall to find Spark or Candela and ask them.

As she walked down the hall, a little nervous now of where the Pokedex could have gone, she gave a quick check of every open room she passed. Nothing turned up until she passed the Professor’s office, her face instantly falling into the serious, vaguely disapproving mask that seemed to keep him at arm’s length. And there they all were, sitting on the edge of his desk.

Blanche was prepared to be cold and possibly even a little mean to the Professor for not leaving some sort of indication that he was taking them when she heard him say, “I’m sorry you have to leave early. I had hoped to get to talk with you more.”

Wrong as it might have been and as stupid as she felt for it, Blanche hated that sort of easy-going, everyone’s best friend voice that he put on. She called it his ‘good professor’ act even though something in her head demanded her to acknowledge that it was not an act at all. But right now, int his moment, it was on every single nerve she had.

She took a deep breath and stepped into the office, doing a bit of acting of her own. “Professor, I can’t… oh.” She looked pointedly at the stack of devices and offered what could only be read as a stiff smile. “You have them. I was concerned when they were not where I left them.”

“Hey Blanche! Sorry about that,” Ask beamed and held up a hand. “I gotta go earlier than I thought, so I asked if I could get ‘em back.”

He was like Spark, Blanche decided as her smile softened for his sake. It would be impossible for anyone to stay really annoyed with him for long. “It is all right, Ash,” she said gently, “I’m just glad they are not lost. The information you have collected is really amazing.”

A few more pleasantries, Willow extending an open invitation to call or visit whenever he liked, and Ash was on his way, declining Blanche’s offer to walk him out. Left alone with the Professor was not something Blanche cared to prolong but as she moved to leave without another word, he stopped her.

“Blanche please,” this time he didn’t sound like he was begging or tired or guilty or any of those other deeply aggravating things. He sounded serious. Serious enough for her to actually listen and stop.

Well, at least he’d gotten that much. It was a start. “I’m sorry,” that seemed safe too and given that he wasn’t giving her a choice this time probably wise. “But I can’t let this go on. You are as obligated to be here as I am, and we are going to have to work together….”

He swallowed hard because as he spoke she was turning around. Very slowly, like in one of those horror movies when someone turns around and their eyes are glowing red or they’ll have no face or something like that.

“My contract,” she began with eyes not red but a little too green and a little more narrow than was strictly necessary, “Is for five years. I will be here for that length of time and it does not bother me in the least to spend that entire time avoiding anything more than professional and impersonal interactions with you.”

“Damnit Blanche!” Even an even tempered man such as himself could only take so much frost from someone (young enough to be his daughter) someone before he snapped. “Why do you hate me so much? What did I do so wrong that you weren’t right there with me doing?”

Where did she get off being this heartless when they’d both contributed to fucking (each other) everything up?

If he was going to lose his cool, then she was going to keep hers. Even though it was against her better judgement and reminiscent of far too many of their meetings from days past, she shut his office door before she addressed him again. No need for the whole building to be suddenly and unnecessarily educated about things done and over with.

“As foolish as it might seem to you,” she began with her mouth set in that same hard, straight line, “I believed the lies you fed me. I believed that you cared, that you loved,” that word came out in a spit she didn’t intend, “me, and that you would come back. And then you didn’t.”

“More fool me for believing you, but I was young. I have forgiven myself for being that naive, but I will not forgive you for taking advantage of me then.” If her tone was acidic, she did not care. At least he had no power to fire her. And it wasn’t like there was a lot he could do to make her job harder. And at least she sounded a lot calmer than she really felt. That was key.

He could only stand there, staring at her with anger giving way to confusion which only made him angrier. The few shreds of reasonable thought that ran through his head kept him from asking her to repeat herself, but he’d gotten the message, loud and clear the first time.

“You think,” well okay. He was still capable of being angry. That was going to be helpful, but rationale was low on the list of his priorities right then, “That I lied to you? Took advantage of you?” The questions were redundant in the extreme and her answer was nothing more than a raised eyebrow and the look that branded him a complete idiot for even asking.

“I never did!” That was a lie in and of itself because, “Okay, maybe at first I did ‘cause it was nice to have the attention of a pretty girl, but that didn’t last.” He sounded defensive. He felt it too and from his tense shoulders to his balled fists resting on the top of his desk he probably looked it too. “But I did love you. And I did come back for you, but you were already gone.”

“And you couldn’t call? Or ask where I’d gone? Or was the surface attempt enough to satisfy you?” Her calm, she decided, was really admirable. She was going to treat herself to something horribly sweet later.

Willow’s eyes went wide, his nose flared, his jaw worked hard, teeth almost audible in their grinding. “Your advisor told me,” he clipped out, biting the words off one at a time, “That you had declined to tell her your plans.”

Blanche frowned hard and put one hand on her hip, “Still lying even now. Glad you’ve not changed much. She knew exactly where I was because I told her six months before I even left.”

“You couldn’t have told her six months before you left,” he mocked, “Because I was there a month after the term started back.” Let her put that in her self-righteous accusations and smoke it.

“Very funny,” she fired back, disgusted tilt to her mouth. “A month after term started back I had already been accepted to complete my studies with Professor Rowan. My advisor knew that.” Something scraped against the back of her brain but she pushed it aside. He was lying. Just as usual.

“You were already gone,” he insisted forcefully. Why couldn’t she just admit that? Probably because that would mean she would have to forgive him. “The weekend I was there, there was a small accident in one of the labs….” He remembered it well. He’d seen the ambulance arrive. It had been a mess.

Blanche’s face altered completely, going slack and pale. She felt hot and cold all at once, her hands shook a little as she grabbed the edge of her shirt and lifted it slightly. “A couple of idiots thought they would light a Master Ball on fire and it exploded. I was there. I’ve still got the scar to prove it.”

He didn’t want to look at all but he had to. Set right in the small patch of brown skin she’d revealed was a thick but short scar, weirdly s-shaped, the skin around it stretched as if it had been burned. Air forced out of his lungs in a short huff while he stood there, slightly stunned. “And someone else got hurt and had to go to the hospital for stitches.”

Now it was Blanche’s turn to be angry because there were an awful lot of things falling in to place in her mind. Memories that she did not think were to be trusted right then that were surfacing and starting to make a little more sense. Her frown returned and with it a vicious scowl and crossed arms. “And what happened then to the pyromaniacs?”

“Nothing.” He was running on autopilot now, mechanical, still staring at her side even though that little mark was no longer visible. Willow simply could not process anything right then except the realization that she’d been there, a floor down, just out of his line of vision. “Well, they had to clean up the mess and pay for the injured student’s hospital I think.”

Blanche’s mind was working overtime. They’d been twiddling around with the thing for hours before she ever got there. She’d had no plans that day to be there at all, it was just chance that she’d walked by as it went off. Her attention was honing in then on what could have happened, what had been bothering her about this for a few minutes.

But he’d got it mostly right. “They volunteered to carry everything for me for six weeks,” she added in shaking her head. This wasn’t right. He’d been there. Been right there, kept his word, come back to see her (she refused to believe that he’d come back for her, that implied a lot more than she was willing to give him credit for just then.) And she’d never known it. “I have to go.”

“Blanche, wait!” But he was talking to an opening door and an empty hallway already. Willow sank into his desk chair and just stared for a long time, brain grappling hard with whatever had just happened.

Blanche went straight back to her room, completely missing Spark as she passed him in the hall and only giving short, disjointed answers to the few interns who had questions for her. How, why? What had happened? Really, honestly happened? She fought down her fretful emotions, not wanting to examine why she was fretful in the first place, what there really was to be upset about anyway? It was all over and done? Wasn’t it?


	6. Legendary Fall

“Oh,” Spark halted in what could only be a very uncomfortable position, one leg through the window along with his head and one shoulder while the rest was dangling back inside the dormitory hall. “I didn’t know anybody else came out here.”

Blanche raised the glass that was in her hand and gave it a wiggle, “No alcohol allowed inside. The rules don’t say anything about…”

“Outside,” Spark smiled and finished his exit onto the roof. His lanky frame unfolded and he took a few steps away from the window before sitting down right next to Blanche. “Probably put that in on purpose.”

He fished around in his pockets, pulling out a cigarette case with a Pikachu sticker on it and a bright blue lighter. “D’you mind?”

Blanche’s eyes widened, but she shook her head a negative. “You’re not the sort I’d imagine with a nicotine habit,” she observed after another sip of her wine.

Spark grinned at her and shrugged as he popped the case open and showed her the contents. “Well, it’s not nicotine I’m after.” He selected one of the carefully rolled joints out of the tin, stuck it between his lips, and lit it before putting the tin away in one of the inside pockets of his coat. After a deep first inhale, he held it, then let out a stream of slightly blue smoke as he said, “You don’t seem the type to be on a roof with wine in a travel cup.”

“It’s been a long day,” she shrugged. She was going to get the most insane contact high from this, she could already tell. Blanche elected to just not care for now. It wasn’t like a fall from the roof would kill her. She wouldn’t even make it halfway to the way to the ground.

Spark flopped back on the tiles and sighed, stretching. “Yep,” he said through another haze of smoke. “That stuff with the Chatot this morning was wild.”

“It was pointless,” Blanche sighed. She’d already expended a lot of energy that day chewing out the people responsible for scaring the Chatot flock on the grounds and causing them to panic, fleeing in all directions and causing havoc as they copied the sounds they heard as they calmed down. “You would think that they would know better.”

“They are still learning,” Spark defended the guilty and now heavily chastised undergrads with another smoke plume and a lazy sigh. “I mean, we all are but you can’t expect them to know everything right off the bat.”

He was right and Blanche knew it. Maybe she had gone a little over the top in giving them tagging duty for a week. She took another sip of wine and chewed the straw in contemplation. “I will let them off the hook after tomorrow.”

Spark chuckled. “I know you will. Keep their whistles though,” he advised, seriously. “Cause really.” He threw up his hands and let them flop back down on the tiles. “ _Really_.”

Blanche snorted and Spark laughed, choking on smoke and rolling over to cough. The sound attracted the attention of Candela who was walking up the path three levels below.

“You two are having way too much fun up there. Give me five minutes and I’m going to break up that little party.” She called up in a stage whisper.

“I need a refill,” Blanche hissed back down at her at the same time Spark didn’t bother with volume control and said, “Bring snacks.”

It wasn’t long before another person was coming through the window. Passing off a bag of salty snack mix to Spark then climbing the rest of the way out with a bottle of whiskey under her arm, Candela joined them grumbling all the way.

“Can’t get off your sorry asses and get in there to get your own crap. Bunch of lazy – Spark either sit still or move upwind.” She handed off the bottle to a frowning Blanche who read the label and shrugged.

“I can’t get the bag open,” he protested before she took it, opened it with a pop and rolled her eyes. “Aww, Candy you are the best!”

“Don’t call me Candy, Spot.” This was an ineffective insistence when he was baked but at least calling him Spot made him laugh.

Blanche quietly drained the dregs of wine out of her cup before starting to refill it with whiskey and Candela settled herself on Blanche’s other side. “I must’ve missed something impressive if this is the result.”

Blanche and Spark took turns explaining the adventures with the Chatot and Candela laughed out loud. “I don’t know how you all get into these messes. I leave for a day and all hell breaks loose.”

“How’d it go at the Children’s Hospital?” Blanche asked, chewing at her straw again. She was finally warm which meant she was about three drinks from completely drunk.

“They are going to keep the Pokestop, but the Gym’s got to move. I’ll ask Professor Willow about that tomorrow. His office is already locked and the light is out in his room.” She wrapped a hand around Blanche’s cup and pulled it towards her, stealing a sip and barely missing cracking heads with Blanche in the process.

“Nah, he’s not here,” Spark mumbled around a mouthful of snack mix. “He’s gone to Lumiose City to play poker with Sycamore. He’ll be back late and hung over tomorrow.”

Candela took another long drink from Blanche’s cup and nodded.

“That’s mine,” Blanche managed to protest. Maybe she was a little closer to drunk than she thought if she was that slow.

“Drinking out of the bottle isn’t ladylike,” Candela countered reasonably.

“Since when do you care about being ladylike?”

Candela looked shocked for a second before her eyes went genuinely wide and she lunged forward, cup forgotten and Blanche just in the way. “SHIT!”

Spark had stood, a little too abruptly, to shake the crumbs out of his shirt. Without waiting to get his footing on the tiles, one foot had slipped forward and after a split second of flailing, he’d given up and started to fall.

Blanche sobered instantly when she realized what was happening but even that instant wasn’t enough to reach him before her calmly tumbled over the edge of the roof. Candela almost had him but in her lunge had stumbled and only missed falling by catching herself by her heels on the gutters.

A flash of yellow-white light was the last thing that Candela saw for several seconds when she looked over the edge, terrified that Spark would be nothing but a smear. Her mouth tasted like metal, all metal like she’d just had every tooth replaced with a filling. Thunder roared, Blanche swore violently, and Candela scrubbed hard at her eyes, willing them to clear.

When they finally did, Blanche’s face, pale and slack, looked over her shoulder in something akin to wonder and maybe a little bit of fear. Candela turned, and Spark chuckled. “Holy….”

“Yeah, so say hi to my buddy, Zapdos. He’s friendly,” Spark assured his friends as he slid off the bird’s back. “Doesn’t bite or anything.”

“Hi,” Candela offered up a hand to the Legendary Bird, slightly dazed. “I think I know a friend of yours.”

Blanche was very, very sober now and not liking it one bit though now there were a lot of things that were starting to make a little more sense to her in that hazy way that the sudden loss of a good buzz is prone to doing. “I know that I do. So,” she asked, looking between the three individuals on the roof with her, “do we all throw ourselves off the roof and make this a proper reunion?”


	7. Ice and Fire

“I can’t on Wednesday. I’ve got to be in court about those parking tickets.” Candela shrugged and offered, “If you can change it to Tuesday, I can manage it.”

Professor Willow sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “If court is going to be a monthly thing for you, Candela please put it on the main calendar.” Candela’s offhanded nod was only a little worrying. Really, how many laws was she going to break before Jenny had enough and locked her up?

Honestly, probably a whole lot more than she had already because traffic violations, parking tickets, and a single sketchy assault charge hadn’t done it? It would probably take her murdering Jenny herself in the middle of the station for them to do more than give Candela a slap on the wrist and a fine.

“Spark?”

“No can do, Rick,” Spark said with a shake of his head, “Breeding conference. Are you sure you can’t move it?”

“No, I can’t. I’ve got the Board on Monday, the people are finally coming about the heating on Tuesday, and from Thursday until Tuesday of next week I’m supposed to be traveling with Professor Sycamore to recruit at the camps.” He sighed. “It’s Wednesday or not at all for another week. I don’t think I can leave it and going down there alone is just stupid.”

“I’ll go,” Blanche said tonelessly. “I can be free for the morning, if we can get back here before too late. I’ve agreed to help Nurse Joy start the rehabilitation of that injured Blastoise at 3 that afternoon.”

It was Spark who noticed how his uncle’s mouth hung open just a little too long before thanking Blanche and assuring her it would not take all day.

\--

It rained Monday night and into Tuesday, but the grounds dried out by Tuesday afternoon and Wednesday was unseasonably hot. Candela tripped off to her court date and Spark headed out at a run with a piece of toast between his teeth and his Jolteon trailing along behind.

Blanche was right on time to their meeting at the front doors, giving last minute instructions to her TA before turning to the Professor. She seemed about to speak but thought better of it and nodded instead, extending a hand for him to lead the way.

The trip to the quarry site was a very uncomfortably silent one.

\--

“No obvious sign of them,” he said with a concerned look. “I would expect there to be some level of disturbance in the rocks at least.”

“Charizard can be very careful if they want to be,” Blanche returned with an equally concerned look. “You don’t think there is a clutch of eggs, do you?”

Professor Willow made a face and a concerned noise. “I hope not. We won’t stand a chance if there are.”

Blanche shook her head and eased forward on the rocky path. “Only one way to find out. Careful,” she said, glancing back up at him. “It’s still a little damp through here.”

Two more steps and no amount of her own advice could prepare her for the shifting stones on top of a layer of mud. The path gave way, and down Blanche slid so suddenly that she didn’t even have time to remember to go limp before she came to a skidding stop about fifty feet further down the trail.

\--

“I’m fine! Don’t touch me.”

Somehow, Willow was positive she was lying. Somewhere between the blood dripping steadily from the gash in her arm and the fact that even now, ten minutes post-fall she still was not able to stand on her own, the message was pretty clear.

“Blanche, don’t make me do this.”

“Do what?” she hissed in reply. Honestly, she had never felt anything like the electrifying, stabbing pain in her knee before but she would be damned if she was going to let _him_ help her up. She’d need stitches in her arm at the very least and she didn’t want to think about what she’d done to earn that level of agony in her knee.

“Last chance. Let me help you so I don’t have to play this card.”

She had to give him credit for giving her the option but there was too much throbbing, aching misery for her to understand what he was even getting at. “What are you even talking about?”

Without another word, Willow was on his phone, giving the address of Go Headquarters, the path they took to get here, and the extent of her injuries. “I’ll try to get her back there as quickly as possible. I don’t want you to have to use the helicopter.”

A few more confirming noises and he hung up. “Now, your choice. Let me get you out of here or cost everyone a lot of unnecessary time, energy, and money to get down here with all that equipment to get you out.”

It was a compelling argument for someone as independent as Blanche. And fortunately she was in far too much pain to think about how awkward it was.

\--

“What the fuck….”

“Candela, you are always so clever with words.”

“Why is the Professor carrying Blanche? Did they get married out there or something?” There was a note of something more than just sarcasm in her voice but even she wasn’t sure what it was.

Spark crossed to the window with a snort to see what was going on, but the realization dawned on them both at once as an ambulance rounded the drive and came to a stop. “Shit! I’ll get her files, go help him with her,” Spark said as he headed for the door.

Candela did not have to be told twice and for the first time in a very long time, a chill crawled down her back as she ran.

\--

“Blanche Hawthorn?” The nurse that came through the door wore a reasonable expression, at least in Blanche’s estimation. “I’m just here to introduce myself. I’m Khorshid going to be your nurse overnight. Do you need anything?”

Blanche started to shake her head a negative but Spark interrupted. “Yeah, I’m a little worried that she’s getting too much of this,” he pointed to the IV bag that held the cocktail of pain medication that was making the edges of her world kind of hairy and glowing. “I know it came make people loopy, but she just tried to get up four times in a row to ‘go check on the kittens.’ She’s allergic to cats.”

“Whoa. Yes, that’s not right at all. Let me check on that.”

\--

Several hours and a complete change of drugs later, Blanche felt a little more like herself. And that self was awake in a cold, dark, sterile room with something beeping softly to one side and her feeling suddenly very, very small.

She tried wrapping her arms around her to warm up, but all that did was make her stitches pull. The thin sheet and blanket were rough and not warm at all. And now she was shivering.

Something rustled in the dark to her right and she tensed. Bad idea because that made everything on her hurt.

“Shh, It’s just me.” She had never been so happy to hear Spark’s voice in her life. It was warm where everything was cold and dark and lonely. “You’re shaking. Cold?” He snickered, sounding groggy himself as he walked around the bed. “No, I’m not going to make the obvious joke there.”

Without so much as ‘may i?’ he toed off his shoes and let down the side rail of the hospital bed and climbed up beside her, easing around tubes and wires. He shifted, wiggled, and finally got still around Blanche without jarring any of the worst sore places.

“Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone about your secret cuddling fetish,” he promised with a grin she could hear.

Blanche pinched him halfheartedly but drifted back off to sleep without much trouble.

\--

“It’s just as we though,” the doctor said, holding up the x-rays and handing over copies of the MRI they’d done on both her knee and ankle. “You’ve torn that ligament on the inside of your knee – not badly but enough to need time to heal. And you’ve got one nasty sprained ankle.”

She snapped her folder shut and apologized, “I’m sorry for the delay with imaging. I hope the overnight wasn’t too hard on you. Once we get you in a couple of braces you’ll be out of here soon, Ms. Hawthorn.”

Blanche nodded, asked the right questions about medications and restrictions and Candela decided that she had the best poker face of anyone in the world to not be completely losing her shit about not being able to put any weight on her leg and hobbling around on crutches for weeks.

“I’m glad I brought you shorts,” Candela said once the doctor was gone. “But how are crutches going to work out with that arm of yours?”

\--

Not very well, come to find out. But Blanche would be damned if she was going to beg for anymore help from anybody. She’d gotten into this mess, she’d deal with it somehow. She did, after all, still have a job to do.

And she managed fairly well. A set of walkie-talkies helped a lot and she justified asking more of her TA than usual by the fact that her TA was getting paid to be useful. But the medicine made her so sleepy, and the physical exhaustion of being on crutches didn’t help.

Then there was the problem of a shower. She was sure that her TA was not getting paid enough to for that. But she would figure it out.

\--

“Spark.”

He blithely moved through her room that afternoon, going through her closet and pulling out clothes and towels and rifling through her underwear drawer.

“Spark put my shorts down.”

“Listen,” he said as he shot a sensible pair of underpants on to the pile of clothes on her bed, “the way I figure it you’ve got limited options. First, there’s Candela who you are in no way certain wouldn’t try to feel you up. Then you’ve got your TA who, while attractive, is 153% not ok with boobs. Then there’s Uncle Rick who, while also handsome enough to turn heads even in his advanced age, is a filthy perv and someone I will protect you from at all costs.”

Spark shed his coat and gloves and shrugged, “Honestly, you’re like. Young enough to be his kid or something. Creep.”

Blanche kept her expression carefully neutral. Even through the haze of tired, sore, and medicated she knew enough to realized that Spark did not know how ridiculously unnecessary his protection was.

“Then there’s me.” He fussed around the room, taking a plastic chair he’d brought with him into the bathroom, his voice echoing as he talked. “Not the obvious choice, but I can assure you that I will not try to have sex with you or get grossed out by you or do anything weird.”

“Spark I can manage, I’m sure…”

He rounded the corner back into her room and gave her a hard look before continuing on. “Not that you aren’t hot as Moltres’ soup bowl. I mean, you have featured rather prominently in some of my fantasies,” Spark winked. Blanche frowned deeply. “But I’m not interested in getting in your pants.”

“Spark that makes no sense.”

“Get naked, Blanche. Unless you are truly archaic and shower with your clothes on.”

The stare-down that commenced was long, serious, and a real contest of wills. Blanche had no real desire to have Spark’s help and Spark had no intention of leaving her there to smell awful or fall and get hurt worse.

“Explain and I might comply,” she finally offered, tired, fussy-headed, and sick of smelling like a hospital.

Spark smiled and clapped his hands. “Fair enough! It’s a long story so let’s get started and I’ll explain as we go.”

\--

Two days later, there was a massive disturbance on the lawn. Interns were coming in with looks of awe and chattering teeth, the gardener was in a state of panic, and Professor Willow, who had delayed leaving for his camp visits by a day to make sure Blanche was all right again, could only stare in helpless wonder as ice crystals started for form on the ends of his hair as Blanche slowly made her way past Candela and Spark (who offered up a childish, “Oooo, you are in trooooouble!”) and the Professor to meet their guest.

“Articuno.” So maybe Spark was right and she was in trouble. But she’d be damned if she was going to cave in to it right from the start. “What brings you here.”

The scream she got in return would have been enough to be crystal clear even if she had not been able to understand her old friend. “I understand. But there was no time. It all happened very quickly.”

Another screech of protest. “Do you think I would have done this on purpose? Really?” Blanche gestured to her useless leg and crutches. “I didn’t have time to think let alone call you,” she was defensive, yes, but also trying to be reasonable. This was really not the time or place to be having this conversation.

A long trail of various noises, caws, screeches, and coos followed and Blanche opened her mouth to protest time and distance and necessity but was cut off when Articuno lashed out and grabbed her by her ponytail, giving it a sharp upward jerk.

“OW! You ass!” Blanche lost all sense of calm propriety in the face of such a reaction from her friend, her most trusted ally.  “Stop that! I’m sorry, okay! I’m sorry and I won’t do it again!” Tears came to her eyes and her crutches clattered to the ground. “LET GO OF ME! I SAID I WAS SORRY!”

Articuno seemed satisfied then and did let go of her, one wing coming forward to catch and steady Blanche so she would not fall. Articuno trilled deep in their throat, making soothing noises as it cradled Blanche as close as she would allow.

“You giant prick,” she accused, leaning into the icy plumage as she rubbed her head. “Showing up here and acting like some kind of spoiled baby. And in front of all these people.” She gestured with her free hand to the crowd of shocked and frightened onlookers, hoping that Articuno would realize that they’d embarrassed her.

Something bright caught Blanche’s eye and she sighed. “And look what you did. You made Candela mad enough that your very favorite friend showed up to defend me on her behalf.” She added sarcastically, “I should have you plucked.”

Articuno gave her hair another sharp tug with their beak, not caring how much of a scene they made, before jutting a haughty chin out at the sight of Moltres dropping embers on the pavement behind a very angry Candela.


End file.
